


Sweet Firsts and Sloppy kisses

by Salios



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Thilbo, Wedding Night, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salios/pseuds/Salios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for a prompt on Tumblr:</p><p>Thorin and Bilbo get married in Lake Town pre-reclaiming Erebor. They haven't had sex up to this point. It's now their wedding night. Go wild.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Firsts and Sloppy kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I own nothing but the delicious smut within. Yep. All that is mine. I make my momma proud.
> 
> 01.22.13:  
> So, apparently I ended this in a depressing way, as pointed out by Kai13799. So I edited the last line a bit; sorry folks, I'm terrible with endings (why do they have to end?! /sob).

Salios

January 21, 2013

Sweet Firsts and Sloppy kisses

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thilbo Bagginshield

Prompt from Anon.:

Thorin and Bilbo get married in Lake Town pre-reclaiming Erebor. They haven't had sex up to this point. It's now their wedding night. Go wild.

\------

Bilbo looked up at Thorin through his lashes, the tips of his slightly pointed ears turning a deep red as he blushed. Marriage, he had resigned himself to a life of bachelorhood; having been a respectable if unremarkable gentle-Hobbit. He had no great wealth, other than what he had in property and due inheritance in the Shire, no skills of any repute or notice, and certainly no physical attributes worthy of admiration or praise. In short, he was a simple, unremarkable, and unassuming Hobbit.

He was certainly not a person to whom the great and majestic Thorin Oakenshield should have taken such interest in.

But here he was, walking side by side, hands brushing, with the great beast of a Dwarf. Thorin’s hands were rough and his countenance rougher; sharp and unwelcoming to almost everyone he crossed. He had a bad habit of rubbing everyone he encountered the wrong way, even allies with good intent. This wasn’t intended, merely a reaction from his years of barely scraping by and not knowing who he could trust, and therefore trusting no one. He had blatantly dismissed Bilbo in the beginning, treating him the same as everyone else he didn’t trust. But he’d changed his mind through Bilbo’s fumbling good will and courage, eventually becoming to trust and then love the fair-haired Halfling.

After escaping the ‘hospitality’ of Thranduil they had finally confided in each other, having spent the first watch of the night bundled together against the cold.

_Bilbo staring incredulously at the mist his breath had become as it left his mouth, hanging in the air for a moment before being lifted away into the dark. He was wrapped in his meagre coat with his hands tucked into the crook of his arms. Like any decent, respectable Hobbit, he did without shoes, but even he was beginning to admit that the thick skin and curling hair of his feet wasn’t enough to keep away the biting wind that rushed past them. He shivered and ducked his face deeper into the folds of his cloak, teeth beginning to chatter noisily. Thorin sat to his left, a fair amount of space between them with his own furs tucked high around his face and hands sheathed in thick, rabbit-fur lined gloves. He looked positively balmy as he puffed lightly on his pipe. Bilbo found himself scowling and making faces at the Dwarf king, feeling minutely better in his childish display of jealousy. He really had no one to blame for his predicament but himself; he hadn’t packed any clothing for weather such as this, and hadn’t any sense during their travels to procure some. It took him a few seconds to come back from his revere to see one of Thorin’s thick brows raised in questioning amusement, aimed in the Hobbit’s direction._

_“Something the matter, Halfling?” The question was mild and amused, instead of the angry and disdain the Hobbit had expected, even this far into their adventure together._

_“Uh… No…Well…” Bilbo sputtered and found his ears and cheeks both flaming in embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to be caught, though he really shouldn’t have allowed himself to fall to childish antics. He was a respectable adult Hobbit, after all. A particularly strong gust of wind had him ceasing his excuses with a squeak and burrowing ineffectually into the travel-worm cloak._

_After a moment he felt the Dwarf king shift closer, and something heavy found its way across his shoulders. He looked up to find the broad fingers of Thorin’s right hand clasped around his comparatively small shoulder. He glanced back left to find the Dwarf’s face much closer than it had been. Again, he squeaked and jerked back, only to be held by the same strong limb and digits that steadily warmed him._

_“Are you cold, little Hobbit?” The King Under the Mountain’s voice was a deep, husky rumble that vibrated through both their chests, which Bilbo  only now noticed were touching. He hadn’t realized it until now, but Thorin’s eyes were a bright silvery-blue that burned with a ferocity that made his spine tingle and his toes curl._

_“I -  Well, a small bit, but it’s not a problem really, my own entire fault and nothing to be done about it.” His cheeks were, aside from where he found himself pressed against the Dwarf King, the only warm parts of him, burning away in embarrassment._

_“I dare say that I don’t believe you.” Another gust of wind cut across Bilbo’s face and up his nose, making him scrunch the pert and frozen appendage and shiver again. “Your body even denies your claims.”_

_“Yes, well, it’s really none of your concern, now is it? I’m an adult after all, and it’s my own – “ He was cut off by the hot breath that accompanied Thorin’s interruption._

_“It **is** in fact my business as you are, after all, a part of my company and therefore under my protection and responsibility. I can’t have you go and freeze to death before you’ve fulfilled your contract; that would just be unbecoming of me as a… host…” Bilbo bristled slightly at the wording. He was not just a tool to be used! His angry tirade was cut off before it could even begin as he found a fair of warm lips against his own partially opened ones. He gasped between them and felt more than heard Thorin chuckle. The kiss only lasted a few heartbeats, but was warm and soft, much gentler than Bilbo would have expected from such a craggy being. As Thorin drew back their eyes met and Bilbo had to fight to blink, so enthralling was the look. “Hobbit… Bilbo… Though I would care for you as the head of this company and you… Friend…” He said the word awkwardly, questioningly, and continued after a short nod from the smaller male. “I would much prefer to care for you as… As a partner.” Here, the stony-faced Dwarf blushed, a meagre reddening at the height of his cheeks._

_Bilbo blinked, astonished and not entirely sure he had understood correctly._

_“Wait, you mean to say… Partner? As in… Lovers?”_

_“Ah, lovers for now, and as is Dwarven custom, as life-mates. We do not give ourselves lightly into bondage with another, and only marry with one being for the duration of our long lives. I have had many suitors in the past, many Dwarves, Humans, and even Elves throughout the years before and after the fall of Erebor. But there has not been one, until I met you that I had felt the spark with.” At Bilbo’s confused frown he elaborated. “We Dwarves have a sense to us about others, a way of finding that one person to whom we are most compatible. For some, they are best to be friends, while others deserve no other as a life-mate. After the Fall, many of my kind took comfort where they could, and forwent the search for their true other half. But I, for having lost nearly all that is precious to me, never settled. I did not actively search; too intent on my need to provide for my family, but I kept my heart open for that spark._

_“When I arrived at your home, I felt it the first moment I met you. I tried to push it down and away, to ignore the feeling as it was at the worst possible time for me to have found you. For all I knew, you had no interest in those of the same sex, or that you were even courting another. But here I am, after all these long months, still craving your touch and your kind smile.” He saddened. “Should you be adverse to my attention, you need just say as such, and I would never again bother you. Though we crave our other halves, we want nothing more than for them to be happy. I will not Fade, but I will never love another and never flourish the same had I lived out my life beside you.”_

_It took a moment for Bilbo’s stunned mind to process the King’s confession, during which the brunette had become tense, and his face strained. He was a simple Hobbit, boring and without anything of note in character or wealth. He failed to form a response for just long enough for Thorin to lose confidence and begin withdrawing his arm. Startled from his frozen state, Bilbo’s hands snatched out and caught the Dwarf King’s gloved fingertips, clutching them in his frozen digits._

_“I, well, I’m not at all adverse to your attentions, actually. I’m just... Surprised…” He flushed again and looked down at the fingers he held tightly._

_“And why would my affections come at a surprise to you? Have you not noticed my courting gestures?” Thorin’s question was met with wide-eyed confusion. “Ah, apparently you had not… What of the new pipe and weed that I left on your bedroll, the clasp for your cloak, or the wooden chrysanthemum?” Bilbo’s jaw had quite literally dropped and he was openly gaping at the brunette. It was Thorin’s turn to flush and look away. “Apparently I was too subtle in my approach…” He was startled when a much smaller hand slapped against his chest._

_“Subtle isn’t even the word for it! Your gestures went completely without notice! I assumed the pipe and weed had come from Bofur, the clasp from Kili, and the flower from Fili!” Thorin stared incredulously at him._

_“And how would you have come to these conclusions?”_

_Bilbo scowled, “Bofur is always sharing his pipe with me, after I lost mine in the Goblin caves, it made sense that he would rather I have my own than use his. The clasp I assumed was from Kili since he grinned at me when I showed it to him, and you all spoke of his skill at fine crafting before the quest began. And the flower; Fili is always whittling away at some piece of wood or another, it keeps him busy during the long hours on the road.” By now, both males were sporting a deep blush across their cheeks, and feeling sheepish._

_“Ah… I apologize then, I had assumed you would have understood the gestures for what they were, and from whom.”_

_“And how would I have done that? You never once handed me those tokens, or took credit for them when I made inquiries. And you certainly haven’t made yourself available in speech or in company!” Bilbo poked him in the breast bone with one delicate-looking finger. “You have been nothing but obtuse about this whole thing!”_

_Thorin, foolishly, opened his mouth to argue about the blatancy of his actions only to be cut off by another jab to the chest._

_“Further more! How would a **Hobbit** know anything of Dwarven courting customs? I’m a **Hobbit**!” Bilbo set about swearing viciously in Hobbitish, the ferocity of which made Thorin’s eyes widen and the King draw away slightly. He was slightly aroused by the sheer ferocity the Hobbit was exuding. He waited until Bilbo had reduced himself to a red-cheeked, out of breath mess before speaking._

_“I apologize, Bilbo. I am at fault, and I hope that my lack of foresight has not ruined my chances…?”_

_Bilbo sighed and slapped him again on the chest, only this time lightly. He took in a deep breath and met Thorin’s silver-grey eyes with his own blue ones. With his free hand, having released Thorin’s fingers, he carded his cold fingers through the Dwarf’s beard, watching Thorin’s eyes close slightly and a light purr rumble from his chest._

_“Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, you are a great exasperating git; but I would love nothing more than to see where the Valar will guide us, together.” He paused to stroke his love’s bare cheek. “If you don’t mind tying yourself to a boring little Hobbit with possibly insane relatives.”_

_Thorin snorted and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the Hobbit’s forehead._

_“Aye, I certainly would, though I find you are not at all boring; though your family, at least from what you have told us over these last few months, certain seem to be lacking in manners and sense.” They grinned at each other and kissed, a warm brush of sweet, warm lips._

_Only to be shocked apart by the raucous cheer that erupted from behind them. Some still wrapped in their bedrolls, others standing with pipe or pint, the rest of the Company cheered and grinned their way with no little passing of bags laden with coin._

They had married in Laketown, under the power of the mayor and the witness of the Company. They had rented a small room in the local tavern for the evening, to celebrate their first night as a married couple. There was no little amount of excitement between them, shared through grins, shy smiles, and the gentle press of hands and thighs as they walked. Bilbo, though excited as he was to see his now husband bare, was mildly scared. The Dwarf was much larger than he in height and bulk, and likely in Dwarf-hood if he expected the proportions to continue appropriately. He could only hope that Thorin would continue to be gentle with him.

Before long the two were in their room, door shut and locked, fireplace roaring. Thorin smiled gently and kissed the Hobbit, leaning down and meeting the willing petals of Bilbo’s lips mid-way. He found himself quickly unbuttoning the Hobbit’s shirt and removing it, along with his suspenders. The Hobbit’s fingers undid his coat quickly and almost without his notice, and began on the outer of his many shirts. Quickly Thorin was bare-chested with only his breeches, boots, and belt still clothing his form, a distinct bulge tenting the front of his leather trousers. Bilbo was of similar undress, his loose black trousers, only coming to mid-shin, barely hung onto his slim hips. The course of their journey had burned away his plump Hobbit belly and left behind soft skin and taught muscle. He was slight and willowy against Thorin’s bulk and steel.

Thorin kicked off his boots and knelt, catching Bilbo around the hips and dragging the Hobbit closer until he could run his nose along the bulge in the soft trousers, humming softly in delight at the smell and soft gasps that Bilbo let out. Delicate hands ran through his mane of dark hair and Thorin nearly purred at the feeling. Oh the delights the little Halfling could bring about without knowing just what he was doing. He quickly undid the buttons holding the trouser front together and slipped them down creamy thighs. He grinned as Bilbo’s Hobbit-hood, and how that was such an amusing word that did not at all fit with the delicious feast set before the Dwarf king, bobbed gently in the air from its release.

Thorin felt Bilbo’s shaky breath, the tightening of delicate hands against his braids, and the shifting of furry feet as the Hobbit realized exactly how bare he was at that moment. Thorin slowly closed the gap between the glistening head and himself, giving Bilbo time to run if he so chose. But the Hobbit surprised him yet again by actually shifting his hips closer instead of away. He began by kissing the rouged head, gently lathing the seeping tip with his tongue before running it around the raised edge. He had seen such cut netherrods before in the kingdoms of men from the far west, though he had never sampled one. Thorin found he liked the way his tongue snaked under the crest and against the small bumps, teasing against the throbbing vein that dissected the organ. And without much to-do, he took Bilbo’s treasure into the warm caverns of his mouth.

He was quite delighted to hear the startled shout his actions ripped from the Hobbit.

Thorin spent a moment bobbing his head and swirling his tongue; Dwarves were not ones for mouth-play, but he had seen enough his in years of wandering to know the pleasure it could produce. And to be honest, he more than enjoyed the sharp tugs Bilbo made of his hair, and the stuttered thrusts that he sucked from Bilbo’s hips. Just as he felt his Halfling’s testicles tense and begin to draw up, he drew back and released the organ with a ‘pop’, grinning at the soft whine of protest. He wiped his mouth and stood, drawing his lover into a sweet kiss, neither perturbed from where his mouth had been. Bilbo’s hands made their way to the ties of his breaches and begin to shakily undo the knots that held the leather together. He did his best to distract his little Hobbit from the task at hand, literally, but peppering his face with kisses, and even licking the outer shell of one delicately pointed ear. That elicited a particularly loud moan of want from his husband. Thorin shivered as the comparatively cool air of the room wafted against his now freed manhood, Bilbo sliding the sheathe of leather away and down his thighs. The brunette kicked his feet free of the cumbersome boots, toes out of his socks, and hastily threw his leather trousers aside. As much as he was for delicate and gentle, the Kind Under the Mountain had been waiting for this event for months, and no pair of pants would be stopping him.

Without any effort, he grasped Bilbo around the waist and hauled him over a shoulder, eliciting a yelp and a laugh from the blonde as he thumped Thorin’s muscled back in half-hearted protest. Soon enough he was dropped gently onto the bed and was covered by the burning heat of his husband’s body. They spent another moment kissing gently, petting their others’ hair and faces and memorizing the small details that came with closeness.

“Ah, Thorin?” Bilbo asked hesitantly.

“Hmm?” Thorin was a bit preoccupied with nibbling on the pointed tip of Bilbo’s left ear, and merely hummed in response.

“Would you like me to… Umm, I mean, Should I – “ He coughed lightly and stopped.

Thorin pulled back and eyed his Halfling with one raised brow.

“Yes?”

“Would you like me to… reciprocate…?” Bilbo flushed and made a gesture towards their hidden manhoods, pressed between their bodies. Thorin smiled gently and kissed his husband for a long moment before responding.

“Another night, I would love nothing more. But there is something else I desire much more.” He kissed the Halfling’s nose and reached over them to the bedside table where a vial sat. He sat back and straddled Bilbo’s hips, uncorking the vial with his teeth and pouring a small amount across his fingers and into one palm. He quickly re-corked the bottle and set it aside, smiling down at the Hobbit. He gently massaged the oil between his hands to warm it, allowing what little that seeped from between his fingers to fall across his Hobbit’s nether regions. “This might feel a bit odd, and messy, but I assure you that you will undoubtedly enjoy it.” He positioned himself between Bilbo’s spread thighs and brought his mouth back to the seeping member he had once before lavished with his tongue. Bilbo gasped and thrust again, his reaction to the feel of a hot, moist mouth enveloping his most sensitive of places.

As Thorin began his ministrations of the mouth, his hands began their own; one gently spread the pale cheeks while the other sought out the dark pucker and circled it with a slick digit. After a few seconds of rubbing, he gently pressed inward and was met with resistance. He gave a strong suck to Bilbo’s cock that had the younger male release a strangled groan before releasing the member again.

“Relax, love; I did say it would be a bit odd, but I can assure you that this will lead to great pleasure, all of which is given by me.” He grinned wickedly and Bilbo was forced to laugh as he relaxed himself. Thorin raised himself for a brief kiss before returning to the task at hand, literally.

He began bobbing his head in long strokes, keeping them light and gentle; nearly enough so that Bilbo wanted to thwack his husband over the head with his own oaken shield! As the Halfling forced himself to relax, the digit worked itself farther in, curling and stretching the tight ring of muscle. Thorin twisted it this way and that, looking for one little spot that he knew would have his Hobbit seeing stars. With a final twist of his wrist, he felt Bilbo tighten around him and nearly choked as the Hobbit’s back arched off of the bed with a hoarse yell, driving his nether rod into the cave of Thorin’s mouth.

 _Found it…_ He grinned to himself and backed off slightly, focusing again on the stretching of his lover’s entrance. He went back to his gentle ministrations of licking instead of sucking and gently, slowly, inserted a second finger. He hadn’t expected his Hobbit to be this quiet during their lovemaking, though the little squeaks and moans that he drew from his little lover’s throat were certainly endearing. He continued his distractions and eventually managed to stretch Bilbo enough for another two fingers to slide in snugly. By this point the Hobbit was a writing mess, hands clutched in Thorin’s mane and whimpering in need. It would have been cruel to continue on like this just to bask in the fruits of his labour, though Thorin was sorely tempted.

He quickly removed his fingers, much to the disappointment of Bilbo, who whimpered loudly and arched his hips toward Thorin. He shushed Bilbo and reached again for the vial and uncorked it, pouring nearly the rest into his palms. He slicked up his rigid cock and shard the rest with Bilbo’s loosened hole, knowing that even with his time well spent that the Halfling would need it. With no warning, he seized Bilbo’s hips and dragged them up to settle on his folded knees, legs splayed to either side. Thorin took a moment to watch Bilbo, enjoying the sweat damped hair and glazed eyes that looked up at him in a mix of longing and love.

“I need you to bear with me, darling. Do you trust me?” The words were barely out of his mouth before he was given a hoarse, “Yes.”

Thorin sighed and spread his knees slightly, lifting one of Bilbo’s legs over each shoulder and rolling the Hobbit forward, the blonde’s knees hovering over his stomach. With gentle hands Thorin guided his girth to the opening and lined himself up. As he leaned into the Hobbit, he pressed his lips to Bilbo’s and kissed him with all the love and awe he could muster. There was a moment of resistance, a whimper of pain, and then a distinct ‘pop’ as the wide head breached the ring and he was steadily sliding in.

Thorin was large for a Dwarf in bulk and height, and his Dwarfhood too carried that burden. He was wide and fairly long, with thick veins and a dark purple head that would twitch in interest. But now, slowly being buried in the warm depths of his husband’s body, Thorin felt completely at home. Slowly he inched inwards, drawing minute moans and hisses from Bilbo alternately. He never relented in his massage of the other’s lips with his own, both hands clutching the pale thighs as if he would simply plunge in should he let go. Soon enough his abdomen pressed against Bilbo’s testicles, warm and heavy. He took a minute to breathe and for them both to adjust. He felt as though he would die if he did not move, but he would hold himself in check until Bilbo was comfortable.

Surprisingly, it was Bilbo who broke first. He snarled something particularly vicious in Hobbitish, which made Thorin’s cock, still buried deep in his husband’s body, twitch with delight. Bilbo braced his hands above his head and _pushed_. Thorin moaned and felt his control become undone. He knew he would last, but that was fine, neither would Bilbo. He pushed his husband’s legs higher, pressing them against Bilbo’s own shoulders, and plundered the plump mouth under him. His hips drove forward quickly and harshly, drawing little squeaks and breathy moans from Bilbo as the Hobbit attempted to draw in breath between strokes, only to have it driven from his lungs every time Thorin’s cock came to bear inside him. Thorin shifted subtly and with nearly every stab of his kingly organ he hit the little nub of nerves inside Bilbo. Feeling his end close-by, he reached down and clutched at the Hobbit’s weeping and neglected member and with only a few strokes he felt Bilbo tighten around him and hot, viscous liquid coat his fist. Thorin wasn’t far behind as his hips stuttered harshly and he emptied himself into the tight confines of Bilbo’s channel.

The two lay connected for a moment before Thorin sat back and slowly pulled himself free, grunting as Bilbo whimpered from the loss. He flopped down onto the bed beside his husband and found himself with an armful of sleepy, sated Hobbit. Bilbo chuckled lightly and reached up to kiss the Dwarf, nuzzling noses.

“I think that this should be something we do often, do you agree?” He grinned mischievously up at the Dwarf, who was mimicking him.

“My poor, poor Hobbit; by the time I am through with sating your body, you will never want to ride a pony again… Or be able to.” Thorin laughed raucously at Bilbo’s blush and snuggled into his Hobbit, his husband, for the first time. unbeknownst to the Hobbit, whose body still held the rigor of watery gelatin, twelve Dwarves and one grey-mained human listened against the door. And as with everything else, there was a passage of small bags filled with tinkling coins. 


End file.
